


Mischief Managed

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Agents of SHIELD - Fandom, Avengers, Loki - Fandom, Loki: Agent of Asgard, Thor (Movies), Thor - Fandom, Thor 2 - Fandom
Genre: Character Death, Death, F/M, Loki / Reader - Freeform, Loki x Reader - Freeform, Loki/reader - Freeform, Reader / Loki - Freeform, Reader x Loki - Freeform, Reader/Loki - Freeform, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-02 00:59:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki. By now, just a name to you - one of the many prisoners being contained by Odin. In the past you were friends, but things have changed. When Loki escapes the prisons, it is up to you, Sif, and Thor to capture him. Alliances are made, trusts are broken and mended, and mischief is managed. Not for long, but managed, nonetheless. Loki x Reader.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

**_First_ **

                Stark as noontime but cloaked in shadows, you walked around the planet of Asgard. It was dusk, and though the trained eye would easily spot you slipping through the crack between time and space, most were not trained as such. You went unnoticed, for now. And that was how you liked it.

               _Where am I going?_ you asked yourself.

               _Nowhere,_ you answered.

               Talking to yourself is not such a crazy thing, you thought.  The only insanity that would come with it is if you asked yourself something, and someone else’s voice answered. Besides, who else had you to speak with? Who else would make your company on a fine evening such as this one, or the one of yesterday, or perhaps even tomorrow? None. Not a soul could keep your angry and slightly demented mind at bay for long enough to hold a conversation.

               For these reasons and many more, you – yourself, and none but yourself – found your way down to the tree on which you and Thor and Loki played as children.

               Memories in this tree were many, not all good but not all bad, some heartbreaking and some heartwarming, some victorious, some of defeat.

               Thor and Loki. They had been your friends for quite a long time. The summerlike days you spent together as children, guided more by warm and wise Frigga than equally wise but never quite as warm Odin, lingered in the branches you touched. Their shadows were imprinted as ghosts in leaves, mere thoughts that took root at the base of the tree and grew more abstract and frantic as they frayed up the trunk and through the limbs.

               It was a funny process, how ideas became thoughts became words.

               At this time, the sun continuing to set all the while, you removed your cloak and placed it carefully on an outstretched thought – limb, branch, what have you – and watched as the last light of day illuminated its scintillate essence.

               Oh! How you wished to go back to the time when they all accepted you, when you were friends and all was right in the world. Now even Loki – tormented, devilish, mindful Loki – abandoned you when you asked something of him.

               As a child, he was a playful one, always joking and laughing and tricking people. He taught you how to walk briskly through the shadows, how to go unnoticed if you did not want to be seen.

               He and Thor got along as well as brothers ever would, but Thor always joked there would be something more between the two of you. Sometimes you wish it were true – sometimes you see Loki, and something in his eyes or the set of his mouth or the way he crosses his hands or stands near a window reminds you of who he used to be and you see him in light.

               Of course, that “taking over the world” business is a bit in the way.

               You would never trust Loki again. It was true, you knew you’d never see him in the same way you did as a child. And that was fine, you convinced yourself – it was fine, because he was not the same person. It was fine because you mattered nothing to him. It was fine because, when you talked to him in the dungeons (tried to, anyway), he glared at you and said nothing. And when he did say things you wished he didn’t. No, you convinced yourself it was okay because Loki was not on the right side. Loki would _never_ be the happy boy you once knew. And that was okay because you were different, too.

               From a nondescript corner, a pair of eyes – you did not know he was watching you, but as Loki escaped, he paid you a small visit. He saw you sitting on that tree and a part of him wished he sat there with you. He turned away sadly, wishing you the best, and slipping through a crevice in reality, fled the prisons.

**A/N:**

**As you may or may not know, romance is not my strongest suit. But, my friends, I will try my best.**

**This was written in a frenzy of imagination. I had to get it down before my parents got home, ehehe. Let me know if you find any grammatical errors, heaven forbid I made any, and I will fix them as necessary. Thank you.**

**::Binna::**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Loki, I’d be the happiest person alive. Not for long, though. I'd probably be dead soon.**


	2. Loki, Lost

**_Second_ **

                The sun rose majestically over the realm of Asgard. Golden light illuminated the pink stardust that was taken as sunrise, and poured into the shadows, making them dance with new life.

                You drew your curtains open, letting the morning into your chamber, where night had thrived for all too long in the dust and antiquities this room accumulated over time. You hadn’t gotten much sleep in the night, or the one prior to that, or the one prior to that. In fact, you hardly slept at all these days, mostly you just walked through Asgard and kept yourself occupied.

                A faint knock on your chamber door was enough to startle you; most of the time everybody left you to yourself and didn’t mind when you failed to come up for breakfast. You smoothed out the rumpled clothing you still wore from last night and unlatched the door.

                The first thing you saw when you creaked the door open was the sunlight catching bright golden hair and reflecting throughout the room and hall like candle-light.

                “Lady.”

                This was the voice of Thor. You stepped back, allowing the Asgardian royalty to sweep into your quarters.

                Even this early in the morning, Thor’s presence took up more space than the room had to offer. When he was a child, you remembered, his charisma shone like the sun, contrasting to Loki’s dark and mischievous night-like personality.

                He was beautiful, and bright, and glorious, and _he had called you Lady._ But the purpose for which he came today wrapped a dark shroud around his shoulders, dimming his natural light.

                He turned and faced you, bright blue eyes meeting yours for the first time in too long to remember. Then, abruptly, he looks down. “Loki. My brother Loki has escaped.”

                You shrink slightly at these words, then shake your head. “Thor, why do you come to me with this news?”

                His eyes meet yours again. “Because, (y/n), we will need your help to capture him again.”

                Your mind is racing and your heart is racing and you feel as if you just took three hundred shots of straight caffeine and by gods you need to sit down, but you steady yourself on the dresser and stammer, “Why…why me?”

                Thor shakes his head and chuckles lightly. “Do you not remember, (y/n)? Do you not remember the countless hours you and I and him spent playing as children? How you two were practically the same entity for years and years? If anyone is able to track him down, it will be you.”

                You were _certain_ they had both forgotten about you, and Thor thought it was the other way around?

                He continued. “We will need the help of Sif, and the one person Loki loves most. The person he can always depend on, the only person who has been known to make him question himself on more than one occasion.”

                “Frigga,” you whispered.

                Thor nodded.

                A while later, you were in a dark room with Thor and Sif. Lady Sif looked the same as she did when you were children: dark brown hair and a regal face, complete with battle armor and her natural tall presence.

                The Queen of Asgard entered the room, dress sweeping in behind her. Frigga had always been one of your favourite people. She was wise and level-headed, and could handle a sword as well as any male fighter you ever knew. She was the one who taught you and Loki to fight; therefore your fighting styles were very similar to hers. And, speaking from experience, that style very often won.

                Frigga smiled. “Odin has gone mad,” she said simply. Thor grunted as if this was no news to him.

                Odin _had_ always been quick to anger.

                The next few hours were spent discussing Loki’s escape, and a plan to capture him once more. The plan, simply summarized, went as so:

                All four of you would look for clues to find Loki. You and Frigga would work together, while Sif would guide Thor with her hunter instincts. Once you found a prominent enough clue to go after, you would scout, followed in about ten minutes’ time by Sif. If you could locate Loki, Sif would briefly contain Loki’s magic so he couldn’t use it. You would run for Thor and Frigga.

                The rest is basically self-explanatory. Frigga would calm Loki and reason with him, Thor would do the actual caputring. He would be prisoner again in practically no time at all.

                “We cannot have Loki running rampant like a fugitive,” said Sif, even though there was nobody to argue with her. “Who knows what he will do? A man like that is capable of anything.”

                You did feel bad for Loki, no matter how hard you tried not to. To be completely honest, you didn’t think he would do anything drastic in the short amount of time he knew he had before the group of you tracked him down. Frigga smiled lightly at you, as if reading your thoughts and telling you that you were the only one besides herself who understood Loki’s nature.

                But the plan was set, and you would go into action shortly.

                After lunch, that was.

**I’m very sorry about the quality of my writing, I’m completely aware that it’s 500% awful. Sorry to disappoint you guys. I’m awful at characterization, too. The gods only know how awfully I wrote Frigga and Sif, dear me. Thor, too. Agh. Please don’t hate me too much.**

**::Binna::**


	3. Of Mischief and Migard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only thing sassier than Percy Jackson is this building.

**_Third_ **

                You laughed internally. This really was too easy. With Frigga’s sharp mind and your keen eyes, finding clues to where Loki may be was no trouble at all.

                The ship was like nothing you’ve ever seen: it had no roof, and flight and navigation equipment lined the edges of the clear panel that made the bottom. Thor and Sif had split ways with you in an identical ship. You sliced through the air, cool wind ruffling your clothing and sweeping your hair back behind you. It made Frigga look even more goddess-like than she normally did.

                She looked at you, having noticed a clue that you had seen a half second earlier.

                The building was ruined, in the middle of an abandoned village, and an eerie green light was cast from its center, as much putting out illumination as stealing it. Surely he wouldn’t leave behind such a blatant hint, would he? Loki was smarter than that. But just maybe, that was what he was counting on. He was a deceitful creature, the God of Mischief and Lies.

                “It’s worth a try,” said Frigga. You nodded, and, seizing the controls of the air raft, led it down a gentle decline to the wreckage.

                The building was twice the size you had estimated it to be, but the damage was also increased by that exponent. As you neared the remaining walls, you noticed that there seemed to be a sort of pattern to the demolition, as if Loki had carved you a path in the rubble. Too easy.

                Frigga stepped down onto the remnants of concrete structure behind you, and tilted her chin upwards, as if faintly smelling the clouds. “He is here,” she said, with a finality you would never question.

                “We should call for Thor and Sif,” you said quietly. Frigga shook her head.

                “Loki does not dwell in places. He works quickly: gets what he needs and leaves. If we call Thor, by the time he and Lady Sif arrive, it will be too late. We must work fast. I will follow you in five minutes’ time.”

                You nodded.

                Navigating the uneven wreckage was not easy, but you made it to the remaining portion of the building with minimal tripping. From there, you followed the green light.

                It illuminated the blackness of the interior, adding luminance, but at the same time, adding darkness and a stifling heat that was a surprisingly unpleasant change from the cool outdoor air. By now, Frigga would be following you. If anything went wrong, you could just shout for help.

                _This is a freaking labyrinth,_ you said to yourself.

                _Yes,_ the building responded.

                _The hell was that?_ You shook the thought from your head and tried not to talk to yourself any more. Because when other voices appear in your head, it’s the sure sign something isn’t quite right.

                Unable to help yourself, you said, out loud this time: “I don’t like this place.”

                The building responded dejectedly, _Well maybe this place doesn’t like you either._

You smiled, despite your best instincts. Loki probably infused his sass into the walls. This thought made you laugh at an unexpected memory.

                _You were the Asgardian equivalent of one of Migard’s teenagers, and it was the morning of testing. Today, you would be proven able to identify with the leagues of the elites. If you were lucky._

_The sunrise was typical, but the morning housed none of its warmth. The second you stepped outside, you pulled your scarf around your neck tighter. Your breath was visible, little puffs of vapor floating through the air._

_You made your way to the room where you would be tested, strolling past the tree on which Thor and Loki, neither much older than you, were climbing._

_Thor met your eyes and laughed. “Being tried today, are you, (y/n)?”_

_You smiled. “I am.”_

_Loki snorted. “I’d wish you luck, but you won’t need it. You’d need skill.”_

_Thor shoved his brother. “Loki, be nice.”_

_“I do what I want, Thor!”_

_You giggled into your scarf. They really were characters. When Loki finally looked at you again, his eyes housed their typical mirth and laughter. “You’re wearing the scarf I gave you last year,” he observed. Thor nudged him playfully, wagging his eyebrows._

_You looked down at the scarf. Last year he had gotten you a sheet of wool striped with green and black, gold running between the two colors. It was one of the nicest gifts anyone had ever given you, with the exception of the necklace Frigga gave you for luck on the testing that you were wearing under your scarf._

_Loki’s pale hand reached into your field of view and touched the fabric around your neck. “It’s still holding up well, I see.”_

_You looked up and smiled at him. He held your gaze for a few minutes, then looked away and ran his fingers through his hair. Thor leaned against the tree with his arms crossed, a goofy grin on his face._

_“Well…I have to leave, or I’ll be late,” you said carefully._

_Loki cleared his throat. “Right. Well, good luck, (y/n). I’ll see you at lunch?”_

_You nodded, still smiling, and turned towards the road to the testing building, pretending you didn’t hear Thor’s hearty chuckles._

You still had that scarf. You didn’t know where it was, probably somewhere in the recesses of

your closet, but you still had it somewhere. As for the necklace, you still wore it around your neck: a pale purple gem with streaks of silver running through it. Though it hadn’t given you much luck at the tests, you considered it lucky.

                One hand on a wall for support, you followed the green light to the middle chamber.

                The chamber had only one entrance, and you were standing in it. A shadowy figure was facing away from you at the other side of the room.

                You hadn’t seen a lot of Loki since the testing incident, and even less of him since the entire “taking over Migard” debacle, but you had seen enough to know that he had grown into an incredibly good-looking man. You also knew what his outline looked like in full Æsir armor, and this happened to be it.

                You stood frozen, not knowing what to do, until he spoke. “I know you are there. I can feel your presence.”

                His voice had gotten deeper since you had last spoken with him. It was rich with pain and intensity, but underneath it were the undertones of the same Loki you had known.

                “Step forward, I do not bite.”

                _Are you sure?_ you asked yourself.

 _Fucking right,_ the building answered.

                You chuckled. Sassy building is sassy.

                Still smiling slightly, you took a step towards Loki’s frame. He turned around slowly. Loki’s hair was impeccable as ever, and his bright emerald eyes burned a path from his skull to yours. He joined his hands behind his back, the green light that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere flashing off his armor. His face had lost its young innocence and was etched with hurt and longing, but you found comfort in that it had structurally changed very little.

                Your smile faded when you took in his entire expression. He seemed incredibly at ease, considering you may as well have been another, more powerful member of your team. “How did you know it would be me and not Thor or Sif?”

                “Easy. They always send the expendable ones out to do the scouting.” His face contorted into something of a snarl mixed with an evil grin.

                You clutched at the scabbard on your thigh for a dagger that had disappeared into thin air. Your breath caught in your throat.

                “As for you personally, well, you have always had a good sense of sight and an acute mind. Though I couldn’t be sure, your ties to our family would have them coming to you for help. That’s what they do.” His voice was brittle, eyes fixed on the floor. “They form relationships, break the bond, and come back when they need you because they know you will help.”

                A shift in the magical air of the room brought both of your attentions to and past the doorframe, down the hall. Before you had time to blink, you were by Loki’s side, and one of his hands gripped your upper arm.

                The world began to crumble around the edges, dissolving into mist and fragments and dust.

                “Frigga!” you shouted frantically. The last of the blackness was turning your mind into mush as the mother of Thor and Loki appeared in the doorway. Her eyes widened, and she rushed towards the two of you, uncharacteristic panic written in her eyes and motions.

                What was left of the light became a vague green slush, until the edges of the world became the middle became the holes became your entire universe, and your consciousness slipped into a deeply comatose state.

**A/N: Well that was bad.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Loki. Nobody owns Loki. Loki does what he wants.**


	4. A Study in Circles

**_Fourth_ **

                You never thought you’d describe darkness as brilliant. It should be the opposite. Light should be brilliant, and dark should be…well, dark.

                But there was something about this darkness that _made_ it brilliant – a pure, unforgiving black that punched you in the face and stroked your hair at the same time. As you awoke, it whispered to you – soft but calculated whispers that missed your ears entirely but shot in shivers down your spine.

                A faint hum came by you before you opened your eyelids. It was a simple four-note melody, filled with simple content and pleasure. This melody was real. It used your ears.

                You grunted slightly, and letting the small amount of light that was available into your eyes, raised yourself on your right elbow.

                The humming stopped.

                “Oh, good,” Loki’s voice said monotonously from somewhere behind you. “You’re alive.” There was the sound of a page turning. You rolled over onto your left side. Loki was reading an untitled book calmly, leaning against the stone wall.

                A small part of you wondered, _Stone walls? What is this place?_

A bigger part of you wondered, _What would he have done if I hadn’t been alive?_

But the biggest and most snarky part of you replied to Loki, “Yeah, that’s just your luck, isn’t it?”

                He chuckled and flipped another page.

                “Where are we?”

                “Loki, answer me.”

                “Loki, tell me where we are or I’ll separate every single one of your metacarpal bones.”

                You asked him question after question, stated threat after threat, over and over again, but he didn’t do so much as raise an eyebrow. How many hours passed, you didn’t know, but after a while you were silent.

                Silence, of course, is not synonymous with defeat. One last try. “Loki,” you whispered, slumped against the cold wall. “please?”

                Loki raised his eyebrows, and after finishing the page he was on, met your eyes. “You think pleading with me will get you anywhere, {y/n}? You are mistaken. But I do feel as if I owe you something for our hasty exit.” He stood, setting his book beside him. “This place is my private hide-away. Not a single person can find me here unless I wish to be found.”

                You tried your hardest to act unimpressed. “Why did you bring me here?”

                He blinked at you as if that was the most stupid question he had ever been asked. “You are with me. I do not wish to be found. Therefore you must hide with me.”

                “Why do you need me, then?”

                He sighed, irritated. “You think that if I had the choice I would have brought you? Obviously not. I was disappearing and you were close to me, you caught on to some of my energy and _blam!_ here you are. If I could return you without making my location known, I would.” He paused for a minute. “No, actually. I wouldn’t. Wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.”

                You looked around once more. “Is there even a door out of this place?”  
                “No.”  
                “Ah.”

                The two of you sat in silence for a while longer. Though you had known Loki for so long, you had absolutely no clue what to say to him.

                “Loki,” you began. “Do you remember that time when we stole Frigga’s favorite circlet?”  
                “Yes,” he hummed, amused.

                “I still have it,” you whispered.

                He looked at you, laughter behind the dark in his eyes.

                Once, when you two were very young, before the scarf incident, you had decided to play a prank on Frigga. She had a favorite circlet: one she wore with almost everything, no matter what the occasion. She had kept it in a chest in her quarters. Loki kept her occupied out in Asgard, and you snuck into her room to steal it.

                That chest was guarded by a complicated series of locks and puzzles, most of which you recognized from the times Frigga taught you, others you could easily solve with your quick mind. You took the circlet and only the circlet, not disturbing any of her other treasures.

                When Frigga and Loki returned, he rushed to your quarters immediately. The two of you laughed and planned to return the circlet in a week’s time, if Frigga wasn’t too distressed.

                In fact, Frigga wasn’t distressed at all. Odin was in outrage, but she was able to calm him easily. She would have another one made, it wouldn’t be a problem. Once things had settled down slightly, she turned and winked at you.

                She knew there was only one person who would have been able to figure out the combinations to open her chest, because you were the only one she had taught these puzzles. She had let you keep the circlet.

                You were glad that you could ease the tension between you and Loki with this memory. Perhaps this wasn’t so bad, after all.

                No, who were you kidding. You had to get home.

**Oops headcanons.**

**Sorry.**

**Also, sorry for not updating sooner. I had exams and medical things I had to do, not to mention Sherlock to rewatch before Many Happy Returns came out.**

**I won’t be posting again before the new year, so Happy New Year to all of you!**

**::Binna::**


	5. Shattering the Glass of Never

**_Fifth_ **

                The cold was all around – cold and dark and somehow the air even managed to feel _tired._ It had been two days with a nearly silent Loki, and you were bored.

                You got bored often. There was not much to do for a simple person like you – sometimes you wished to be a servant. If you were bored then, at least you would be _busy bored._ It was a terrible thing to wish upon yourself, but sometimes it felt like a better opportunity. Even the servants were more acknowledged than you had been.

                Loki had finished his book quickly, and it lay next to him temptingly. But making a move for it would be admitting to knowing of _his_ existence, which you weren’t quite sure exactly why you were protesting, but it seemed a good idea.

                After another long, boring, silent day, you finally huffed a sigh and spoke in Loki’s general direction.

                “We could go somewhere, you know. Or at least find something else to do. You could magic up a chess game or something.”

                He hummed lightly. “The entire point of hiding in this place is so that the others cannot find me. Once they’ve given up, we will leave. I only keep you because I do not trust you. As for the magic, the reason they would not be able to find me is because this place strips any person or entity of their magical ability, therefore undetectable to radars. None of the realms are nearly as safe as this “rip in reality”, as I like to call it, save for maybe two.”

                Your back still to him, you arched an eyebrow. “Two?”

                “Yes,” he replied with an uncharacteristic monotone. “One is destroyed. The other – Migard.”

                “And what’s so terrible about Migard? Bloody hell, Loki, we’ve been cooped up in your damned rip in reality for…” – you checked your mental clock, still ticking – “Three days, seventeen hours, thirty-two minutes, and fifty seconds. Why is Migard not an option?”

                His sigh came from closer to you this time. He placed his hands on your shoulders in what would be considered a soothing, massaging gesture if it hadn’t been Loki and his natural malice executing it. “You see, {y/n}, Migard only does so much. The sheer ignorance of the people inhabiting it to our magic is the singular shielding thing. I am not keen to return, they know me. They may pick up on something. The protection only goes so far as the ignorance, and even then, it is weak. There is a good chance we would be found out. Odin’s beard, relax a little, {y/n}. Your shoulders are tighter than Thor’s workout suit.”

                You smile lightly at that last joke, but quickly regained your sense. “Get your bloody hands off of me.”  
                He clucked twice. “Touchy.”

                You frown. “No, no touchy. That’s the point.”

                A minute passed between you two as you both realized you had two completely different meanings of the word “touchy”, and finally you smiled and shook your head.

                The next day passed in comfortable silence, not even a glance shared between the two of you. In all honesty, you missed the Loki you had once known. But this was not the same man, you knew, and you wanted to get to know the new him. So you asked from your sleeping corner, still curled in a tight ball against the cold.

                “Why are you running from Odin, exactly? Or Thor?”

                You felt something in the air falter – a warm glow Loki was emitting, the comfort and safety of his precious rip in reality, flickered oncetwicethreetimes before leaving the atmosphere colder than before. The breath you drew stabbed your lungs with its miniature minty icicles and dampness. You had broken the fragile wall the two of you had carefully constructed over the four days, six hours, fifty-five minutes, and eight point three seconds you had been together.

                His next words seemed to have absorbed the glass that hung in the air which had recently been shattered, brittle and sharp and broken.

                “I hide because I am a monster. Because I regret what I have done to hurt them, because I only wanted to be what I thought I had the right to be. Because I was wronged in the beginning, but have gone to great lengths to get my revenge and have gone too far. And now there is no turning back.”

                Loki was and is presently still the god of mischief and lies. If anyone in all of the nine realms could construct an utterly believable lie like that, pretend to confess something they’d been hiding for a long time only to deceive the person receiving the information, it would be him.

                You had known Loki, and you knew he would never have done that. But this Loki, the new Loki, cheated/broken/damaged/evil Loki…well, he was different. Unpredictable. Untrustworthy.

                “You don’t believe me,” he whispered after a moment. “I confide in you, and you don’t believe me.”  
                Your answer was choked out, almost as if being strangled. “Why should I?”

                You felt the barrier being put back up, the glass shards glued back together until only dust remained and there was no blood in any heavy breath you took. Loki waited to see it go up as well, and considered quietly before constructing his answer.

                “You shouldn’t,” he said. His voice had gained back its tricky edge, the one that made you think twice about every word he spoke ever. The vulnerable, defenseless voice of the Loki who had wanted to see you during lunch after your testing was gone, replaced by the voice of the Loki who could stand in front of a crowd of people and lie to every single one of them, make them turn against everything they had believed in with a twitch of his eyebrow and a word from his silver tongue. This voice was the voice of the Loki who spun a silken thread around himself, always made people do his bidding. If they were uncooperative, he’d pull a string, tug at a memory, construct a simple sentence that would send their world crashing down and then they would kneel, because he had figured them out and picked them apart as if there was never anything hiding their soul from him. Because there wasn’t.

                “No,” silver-tongued Loki added with a low chuckle. “Trusting me – worst idea I’ve ever come across. I’ve made a decision. We will go to Migard. End your ceaseless boredom. Perhaps, if we lay low, we will be safe.”

**HELP ME OH MY GODS.**

**No but really.**

**Thanks to the commenters/reviewers, and thanks for all the kudos and favourites and follows! :) You people are my favourite people! :3**

**::Binna::**


	6. Friends, I Assure You

**I have a short (or maybe not so short) A/N for the beginning of this chapter.**

**First off I would like to acknowledge that I made a small mistake at 11 at night when I was writing the previous chapter, I miscalculated the amount of days they had been in the cave when Reader was talking to Loki. However, I am very lazy and will not change that.**

**Secondly, I would like to dedicate this chapter (perhaps not its contents, but this chapter in general) to my friend Sierra, who honestly is the only reason I’m still writing this thing. I have a tendency to quit fics in the middle of writing them, but Sierra, I will continue writing this only because you got me into Loki and IOU a fall.**

**IOU a falling of tears, and I will present it to you in the form of angsty fanfiction (said little red hen and she did).**

**Love you.**

**And now, without further ado:**

**_Sixth_ **

                Migard. _Migard **Migard**_ **Migard.**

 _Don’t trust him,_ your mind whispered. _He said it himself, he wouldn’t trust him if he was you either._

The wall responded, _look at who’s getting brighter these days!_

You groaned internally and silently responded, _I thought you were fucking gone._

_Gone and I are just friends, I assure you._

_Shut up._

The wall fell silent, and the echoes of the word _Migard_ flashed through your mind again. You were getting out of this cramped rock-den, into a place with fresh air and books that weren’t guarded by the god of mischief and warm beverages and _food._ You didn’t know how, but your stomach hadn’t grumbled once in the days you had been in this rip in reality, and you weren’t thirsty either, but eating and drinking would feel familiar and you still longed to do it.

                Loki extended his hand, the green glow already starting. You hesitated before taking it. “If this place blocks off all magic, how can you get out?”

                “There’s a certain level of magic present at every place at all times, nothing can conceal this dull, basic magic. Moving between the realms…yes, it is tricky, but it requires no creation or destruction, only a transferring of matter. Because of that, it stays under this background magic. Now take my hand so I can get us to Migard.”

                You put your hand in his, locking your fingers, and the green light expanded, surrounding not only Loki but you now, too.

                _Let’s hope you stay awake this time,_ Mister Sassy Wall retorted.

                _Shut up,_ you hissed back. _I wasn’t expecting it._

Loki’s voice came soft but urgent next to your ear. “Close your eyes, I’ll give you a signal when it’s over.”

                You obeyed, and the stomach-dropping, nauseating, disembodying sensation began again. This time, you didn’t black out.

                You still felt as if your body was spinning, dizzy without seeing, when Loki gave your hand a squeeze. But you tore your eyes open too quickly, and an overwhelming sense of who _what_ when **where** why ~~how~~ vertigo overcame you, making your knees weak. You tripped into Loki slightly, and he enveloped you in his arms and pulled you to his chest. You closed your eyes and took in his uncharacteristic warmth until you felt completely stable, and then drew back from him slowly.

                “Better?” he asked with a small smirk. “Realm travel can be disorienting if you aren’t used to it.”

                You nodded, taking in the landscape.

                He had landed the two of you in the middle of nowhere. The sky was bluer than Thor’s eyes, not a cloud could be seen. Other things, like _civilization_ , could also not be seen past the brown grasses and single tree in the distance down the plain.

                Loki answered your question before you had a chance to ask it.

                “This is mid-America. I do not know what part, but it is Migard and free and open, is that not all that matters to you?”

                The _yes_ forming in the back of your throat was caught by an idea brewing in your mind.

                “Loki, this is wonderful, but we have no currency, we don’t know how this place works, its technology is different than ours. I thought I wanted to come here, but really, I wanted to go home to Asgard.” You made sure your tone was apologetic, but only to a point where it seemed sincere.

                Loki’s right eye twitched slightly. “You mean to tell me,” he whispered, struggling to maintain his calm. “That I wasted my magic and energy, transfer _all that mass_ from my hiding hole to Migard, and you do not even wish to stay?”

                “Listen, Loki.” The words came out in a rush now, urgent and quick as not to disrupt the god’s psyche even more by having him wait. “Like I said before, neither of us knows a single person here. If we were to stay, we would have no idea how to get around! And we have no currency – how will we pay for our expenses? You cannot magic it into existence – it would get us caught and _in trouble._ Say we just go back to Asgard? And then-”

                He cut you off angrily. “And then _I_ get in trouble, like always, and you escape without a scratch and go back to your average life while I sit in a prison cell wasting my time while I could be doing better things, other things, and endure the wrath of my father and Thor and the embarrassment of being brought to my knees by a _weak one._ That’s your grand plan, isn’t it,” he spat, “to get me working my magic so that you can persuade me to use it more and more and more, and get you the sympathy of people in Asgard because you were held captive by a monster!” His voice was raised to a shout near the end, echoing across the vast and lifeless grass.

                “No,” you whispered, feeling small under his rage. “Do you remember the time you stole something of Odin’s – I can’t remember what, after so many years – and he was so angry with you he sent you to your room for seven days?”

                He nodded, anger simmering slightly.

                “Do you remember,” you asked, swallowing a little too loudly. “how I went to Frigga and explained you didn’t mean harm, you were just having fun and you regretted what you had done? And Frigga and I spoke with Odin, and he lifted his punishment?”

                Loki laughed. “Do you think you can do the same thing with this? I was not having fun, I _did_ mean harm. I may or may not regret my actions – in fact, I almost certainly don’t – but I killed many people and hurt many others, and threatened the entire realm. This is not a game, {y/n}.”

                You lifted your chin and met his emerald eyes, and when you spoke your voice was strong. “No. But I will try my hardest to get you out of that abominable cell. I promise, I swear on everything I own I will do everything in my power.”

                The only reason you were volunteering this was because you were almost certain you would not succeed. You _had_ grown up with Loki, and you knew his tricks and scams and you knew how to use them. Right now, you were using one. But you always kept your promises, and you would keep this one too.

                Wordlessly, without breaking eye contact, he extended to you one of his hands, glowing green once again. This time he pulled you to him before you closed your eyes or the trans-realm movement occurred.

                _Trust._

**Heh.**

**xoxo, Binna**


	7. Allons-y!

**_Seventh_ **

                The transition was much, much easier this time. You opened your eyes and felt yourself stabilize, your center of gravity shift, and the world align again.

                Catching the sights of the throne room was familiar and overwhelmed your senses with memories. The gold of the decorations brought into mind the days you, Loki, and Thor had spent chasing each other around the throne when you were young, so long ago. The slight smell of jasmine in the air brought back your close relationship with Frigga, her caring nature and the strong approval and support she offered. You were so taken by these memories that you nearly forgot the task at hand. Loki brushed your shoulder with his and brought you back to now.

                Odin was sitting in the throne, disapproving glance falling on the two of you. Loki, knowing where this was going, put his hands up, waiting for the guards to cuff and chain him. When they do, Odin speaks.

                “You see your mistake and place.” His tone was disapproving and almost harsh.

                Loki’s eyes lightened with mirth. “I am not stupid,” he laughed. “If I had a choice I would never have come back.”

                Odin’s eyes locked on you and softened with sympathy as one of the guards returned with Frigga and Sif.

                Loki raised his eyebrows at you as the guards took him away. You sent him a silent signal – _I’ll do what I can_ – and he nodded, understanding. It was calming to know that through all the years of never seeing each other, your near telepathic communication had not faded.

                Your mind churned as Odin dismissed you to talk with Frigga, Sif, and Thor – who was waiting somewhere outside the throne room, you understood.

                Sif remained distant and cold as she so often did, but Frigga gently touched your arm and guided you through the halls to your quarters.

                “Thor will not be joining us,” she said, closing the door. “He has important matters to take care of.”

                “What happened in those days, {y/n}?” asked Sif.

                “Sif,” Frigga chided, “give the girl some time to rest.”

                “No,” you replied, surprised at how calm your voice was. “She’s right to get to things as quickly as possible.”

                Sif tilted her head and sat on your bed.

                “Loki took me to some place – a cave type of thing, I don’t really know – he called it a kind of hole in reality.”

                Frigga raised her eyebrows. “What happened there?”

                You shook your head. “I was knocked out for most of it. He read a lot.”

                Sif snorted.

                “And he took me to Midgard.”

                “Midgard?”

                You shrugged. “I asked him to. We didn’t stay for long.”

                Sif looked baffled. “And he just _took_ you?”

                “That’s what I’ve been saying all along, yes.”

                Frigga smoothed her skirt and sat on your other side. “Which makes very little sense, considering he may or may not have been caught while doing that. Loki isn’t the type to make foolish and not well thought out gestures such as that.”

                “He’s not all that bad,” you said quietly. Time to put your plan to work.

                Sif glanced at you from beneath her dark eyelashes, but Frigga just sighs.

                “No,” she says softly. “He isn’t.”

                “He’s just tired.” The words come out of your mouth with a confidence you didn’t know you possessed. “He knows he’s done things that are unforgivable, but the way he sees it, what you’ve done to him…it’s also unforgivable.”

                “So by all logic, he escapes our prisons, captures one of our persons, and makes a break for it? That makes no sense whatsoever!”

                You sensed Frigga’s understanding  the second she folded her hands. “Sif, would you mind if I had a minute with {y/n}? Alone?”

                Sif blinked. “Of course, Queen.”

                As the door shut quietly behind her, Frigga’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You promised him you’d have him freed, didn’t you?”

                “I said I’d do what I could,” you said back quietly. “And I don’t make promises I don’t keep.”

                Frigga leaned closer to you and put a hand on your shoulder. The air around you was invaded by the scent of jasmine and sweet lilacs, her perfume and body wash.

                “You were right to do that,” she muttered into your ear. “It got you back here. But there is little you can do, truly.”

                “I know. I was hoping I could get your help.”

                She took a breath. “I will consider speaking to Odin of lessening punishment on Loki. However, the chances of a full relinquishment are so small I daren’t think of asking it.”

                You smiled. “Thank you, Queen Frigga. Thank you so much.”

                She rubbed your shoulder like she had when the days were long and warm and kind, and you were small buy your spirit was bigger than all the realms put together. “Of course. Loki is as special to me as my other son.”

                “I can see where he took after you,” you said lightly. “He’s cunning and full of secrets.”

                She laughed. “Go, then. See my cunning and secret-filled son and tell him you have done what you can, and together we will persist in seeing him eventually freed.”

                She stood left you alone in the comfort of your dark room, the only light – coming from the small window – illuminating the floating dust and turning it into realm unto itself. After a few minutes, you obeyed her orders and go unnoticed in the corridors until you saw his cell. When he caught sight of you, he stood and walked closer. He said nothing, only looked down at you expectantly. You nodded.

                “Frigga and I will go to Odin together,” you said. Of course, this wasn’t what had been decided, but you knew it would happen eventually.

                He nodded, and you left to go back to your bedroom before you could hear his small _thank you_.

 

**Agh I’m sorry I’m so lazy! Spring break is wrapping up and I’ve spent so much time trying to perfect this chapter. I’m not entirely happy with it but that’s okay, I have to get past this to get to the more interesting and feeling provoking chapters.**

**::Binna::**


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